


Damage Control

by cherry_shrimp



Category: Underfell - Fandom, Undertale, underswap
Genre: Amputation, Angst, Anxiety, Asphyxiation, Bad Writing, Blowjobs, Bondage, Bone Lacing, Brainwashing, Branding, Burning, Cauterization, Choking, Collars, Deepthroating, Dissociation, Dunking, Ecto-Genitalia (Undertale), Ecto-Penis (Undertale), Ecto-Vagina (Undertale), Escape Attempts, Graphic Torture, Handcuffs, Humiliation, Hurt/No Comfort, Incest, M/M, Malnutrition, Master/Pet, Mutilation, Non-consensual mutilation, Overstimulation, Pet Play, Power Imbalance, Public Humiliation, Punishments, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sans suffers, Sexual Slavery, Starvation, Suicide Attempt, Torture, Water Torture, Whipping, beatings, forced pet play, slight somnophilia, the opposite of safe sane and consensual, trigger warning, weird monster magic n stuff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-30
Updated: 2018-09-15
Packaged: 2019-05-31 00:30:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15107981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherry_shrimp/pseuds/cherry_shrimp
Summary: Papyrus took the handcuffs out of his closet. He had been planning this for a while.***PLEASE READ THE TAGS!***updated every other friday! this will eventually include the swap bros and some classic universe-hopping shenanigans, but not yet. tags are updated as the story goes on. my tumblr is https://cheery-shrimp.tumblr.com/





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> if any of the tags make you uncomfortable or will trigger you, please don't read this. stay safe!
> 
> PLEASE READ THE TAGS!

Papyrus took the handcuffs out of his closet. He had been planning this for a while. 

Ever since Papyrus was a teenager, he had been protecting his brother, Sans. They were fraternal twins, but Papyrus took on the role of older brother— cooking, cleaning, bringing in most of the money. Yes, Sans did all of those things too, but he always faltered. He wasn’t strong, ambitious, confident, or even a great cook like Papyrus. The skeleton was disappointed in his brother, but if Sans was useless from the start, he just couldn’t help it, right?

His brother never seemed to notice that Papyrus’ gaze would linger a little, how he would touch Sans a little unnecessarily. When he was younger, he knew his attraction to him was wrong, and the guilt haunted him, but as the years went on, he became less and less worried about morals. He had dusted so many monsters protecting his reputation and his brother.

Sans was weak. That’s all there was to it. That’s why Papyrus ordered him around, because if he wasn’t forced to do something, he’d just lay bed and let himself die. Sometimes, the skeleton had to resort to violence, but Papyrus cared, he truly did. Besides, if anyone were to be with Sans, it should be him. He knew Sans far better than anyone else.  
He knew his brother was a virgin, so it would definitely improve the experience.

He entered Sans' bedroom quietly, making sure to prevent any creaking from his door. It was dark, except for the light of a lamp Sans had forgotten to switch off. Sans was careless. His prize was laying on his bed, on his side with his jacket and shoes scattered across the otherwise bare floor. Sans was wearing his normal sloppy attire— black basketball shorts and a plain red shirt. He crept across the floor, the pair of handcuffs quietly clinking together in his boney hands. Papyrus' eyes were drawn to the other skeleton's slack, sleeping face. Moving a single pillow out of the way, he rested his hand Sans' skull, and ran a bony finger down his face and to his neck. It was bare. Maybe he’d fix that tomorrow. Surprisingly, his brother had a small amount of scars, probably due to the fact that he was unnaturally good at dodging. 

His hand traveled to the hem of his shirt, gently pulling it up as to not disturb Sans. His brother's too baggy shirt was easy to remove, as were his shorts. Normally he disapproved of Sans’ choice of clothes, but for once, Papyrus didn’t mind.

Papyrus ran a hand over the small rib cage beneath him, testing the individual ribs and rubbing them softly. Sans stirred a little, but otherwise did not move. Papyrus felt his magic wanting to manifest in his pelvis, excited just by the thought of what he was about to do. Taking the cuffs, he held Sans' skinny arm, clasping the cuff firmly between his ulna and radius. He'd have to pull his bones apart to get out of these binds, and Papyrus felt a sort of evil feeling of satisfaction at just how clever he was. He repeated this process and then gently tugged his brother closer to the bed frame so that he could fasten both pairs of cuffs to the bed. With two clinks, the cuffs were connected. Sans' arms hung above his head.

Staring at his brother’s face, he knew suddenly that he wanted to break his body into little pieces. After summoning a dark red tongue in his mouth, Papyrus bent down to kiss him, lapping at his sharp, pointed teeth similar to his own. His knees were on either side of Sans’ slender hips, one hand supporting him as the other began to languidly stroke at the sleeping monster’s delicate rib cage. Sans was beginning to stir, his face scrunching up. Papyrus continued anyways, relishing in how tiny and breakable his brother really was— he didn’t even fully reach Papyrus’ shoulder, and his clothes were probably a size too big for him. 

Papyrus moved down to Sans’ pelvis, tugging off his shorts eagerly. That’s when Sans looked at him with drowsy, tired eyes that quickly turned to shock.

“Papyrus!?”

“Master.”

“W-what?” Sans asked nervously, pulling his naked legs away from his brother. 

“Call me Master.” Papyrus said firmly, clenching Sans’ leg and tugging his entire body closer as he said ‘Master’. 

“Why?!” Sans was visibly starting to panic, his sharky mouth turning down and his eyes little pinpricks of light. A glow of red magic began to appear in his eye sockets, but Papyrus pinned him down, leaning close. 

“If you summon an attack, you’ll regret it,” he stated menacingly, and Sans’ magic died down almost instantaneously. For a moment there was silence, Papyrus running his hands over Sans’ stiff body, then suddenly something hit him in the spine, catching him by surprise. Sans had lashed out with his foot, eyes blazing with fear. Papyrus hesitated for a moment, then realized one thing. He was in charge now. He held down his brother’s legs down and raised his hand, slapping Sans so hard he heard the rattle of his bones. It grew quiet again.

Now that that was over with, he leaned down towards his brother’s pelvis, lapping at it with his tongue. Sans gasped and tried to shift away, but Papyrus suddenly bit down, earning a little cry. He looked up at the skeleton from between his slender legs, which began to strain under his hands again.

“S-stop.”

“If you cooperate, this will be fun for both of us,” he said with a smirk, scraping his teeth across the bone. Sans stifled a noise, and Papyrus ran his tongue up and down his pubic bone, shoving a hand down his own pants to stroke himself. He lavished the bone with nips and licks, earning a few strangled moans that definitely sped up the process to forming his dick. His magic coalaced in his pelvis, dark red and ready to be formed into whatever he desired, barely an ounce of concentration put in as he quickly stroked himself to hardness.

Sans was quivering, throwing his head back in shame and arousal as his magic gathered into a small red pussy.

“Aw, how adorable is that?” Papyrus teased, standing up. Sans balked and struggled at his bonds in fear when he saw Papyrus slip off his pants, a glowing red erection standing tall. However, before he could struggle any longer, Papyrus grabbed his legs, spread them apart, and knelt down. 

“You don’t h-have to do this, y’k-know,” he said anxiously, motioning at the cuffs by tugging at them gently and letting out a extremely stressed chuckle.

“Shut up before I make you shut up, pet,” Papyrus snarled, Placing the head of his cock at the entrance of soft, pinkish-red pussy, he grabbed Sans’ slender hips and thrust in.

Sans let out a noise that was somewhere between a yelp and a shriek, his walls clenching around his brother’s cock. He had to stop for a moment, overwhelmed by how searingly hot Sans was around his member, then began to thrust his hips in and out, much to Sans’ protests. He placed a hand over the vertebrae on his throat, pinning him down effectively as he slammed his hips in and out, savoring just how good it felt to finally fuck Sans into the mattress like he always wanted to.

Sans had stopped squirming, eyes rolled back in the back of his head as his legs quivered, bouncing with Papyrus’ force. Papyrus didn’t bother to hold back his moans, grunting as he buried his cock deep into that pussy. Removing his hand from Sans’ throat, he watched as he gasped and coughed, the sounds of the cuffs jangling together distant. His finger found Sans’ clit and rubbed it harshly, watching as Sans’ expression changed vividly. In the dim light of the room, Sans’ face was flushed pink and marred by a growing bruise on his cheek, brows drawn up and his mouth clenching shut in a failed attempt to muffle his screams.

"You're— so tight," Papyrus growled, gripping Sans' hips and bringing them to meet his thrusts, relishing in Sans' wet, tight hole and his moans. 

“P-Papyrus, ah- please s-stop!” the smaller skeleton wailed. Instead of bothering to punish him for not calling him by his proper name, Papyrus was spurred on, leaning down to force himself into Sans' mouth, tongue running up his sharp teeth. He wasn’t sure if Sans would dare bite his tongue, and was pleased as the submissive monster reluctantly opened his mouth, breath harsh. Papyrus' tongue licked the inside of his mouth, going towards the back of his throat and ignoring Sans' gagging. He knew Sans was close to orgasm by the way he threw his head back and forth, gasping for air and the way his pussy sucked Papyrus in. It was only a moment before Sans lost the fight and screamed, coming hard and tightening all around him.

Just the sight of his brother so wrecked nearly pushed him to the edge, the sniffles and cries probably the hottest sound he’d ever heard. He felt his orgasm come closer and closer, and drove his cock deeply into Sans' pussy, the walls trying to push Papyrus out clamping down on his cock and making him moan. He released his brother from their kiss and bit his neck violently as he bent over him, pistoning his cock in farther and farther. Sans kept begging and crying, thrashing underneath Papyrus.

He spilled his seed right into Sans, growling and gasping as his hips slowed down. Papyrus let his weight fall on Sans for a moment, recovering from what was probably the best orgasm he'd ever had. He pulled out, waiting for his now sated cock to disappear. Sans was still shaking, his eye sockets scrunched shut and his open legs trembling.

"You look cute like this," he commented, watching a small dribble of his cum roll out of San's hole.

"Please just l-let me go, I'll be good," Sans begged, opening his eyes and looking desperately at Papyrus. A rush of adrenaline ran through Papyrus as he watched the terror flicker in his brother’s eyes at the words he said next. 

"I don't think so."

He knew what he’d do with Sans. 

“P-please…”

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Papyrus said as if he hadn’t just fucked Sans’ brains out and handcuffed him to a bed. 

He what he’d do with Sans. He'd just keep him there. No longer would he tolerate other monsters messing with his property. Papyrus felt possessiveness burn in his chest. The safest place for his new pet was in his room, contained. Papyrus checked the handcuffs and locked the window, ignoring Sans’ pleas. He shut the door tightly behind him, walking back to his bedroom next door and putting his pajamas back on. After pulling a blanket over his bones, he smiled to himself. 

Sans was quiet for a few moments before he began to sob.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i think i'll start posting chapters on fridays. 
> 
> PLEASE READ THE TAGS!

Sans felt… Dirty. 

Sans didn’t move from his spot, exhausted, stuck, and his bones aching. His face ached from when he had been slapped. He could use his magic, but he’d probably blow his hands off, and then where would be he? He wasn’t quite sure what time it is, as the digital clock in his room had broken a few months back when he accidentally knocked it off the dresser. He was a klutz, just like Papyrus always said.

With no reference of time except for what was probably hours ago when Papyrus checked on him, he was bored and repeatedly tried to get out of the cuffs. He only rubbed his wrists raw in the process. Fear curled in his gut at the thought of his brother coming in and touching him again. Did Papyrus really hate him that much? Even though Sans rarely cried and kept a straight face, he felt his eyes stinging as tears threatened to fall down his cheeks. Maybe it was just a joke. A cruel joke, but it’s not like Papyrus ever had a great sense of humor. 

As Sans began to doze off, his neck slightly strained, he heard what sounded like the front door opening and closing. He perked up, making sure he was awake. God knows what Papyrus would do if he found Sans sleeping. His anxiety heightened until he felt dizzy and shaky as he heard boots walking up the stair and down the hallway towards his room. Scared, he watched as Papyrus walked in, various items in his hands.

“What’s that?” Sans asked nervously, almost more afraid of the unknown than what had already been done to him. Papyrus crossed the room, his face set in his carefully cold expression he always had, especially in public. But this time, something else seemed to lurk behind it. 

“I didn’t tell you to speak.” Papyrus said firmly, unbuckling what Sans realized was a collar and putting everything else on the floor. It looked like a cage, maybe a leash… He really was a pet, wasn’t he?

Sans stayed quiet, hoping Papyrus would just leave him alone. It was when Papyrus moved in closer that Sans felt panic flare in his chest. He scooted back as much as he was allowed in the cuffs, but Papyrus grabbed him by the neck, ignoring how his hands scrabbled at the bed frame. The clink of the collar’s buckle sounded and Papyrus released his large hand, only for it to be replaced with the weight of a collar. It felt like leather, simple and uncomplicated. He was thankful it wasn’t a shock collar. 

“Will you be good?” Papyrus asked, staring him down. 

“What do you m-mean, will I be _good?!_ ” Sans burst out, glaring at Papyrus. If his hands were free, he would’ve covered his mouth with them. He knew he did the wrong thing when Papyrus grabbed him, unclipping the cuffs and shoving him down so roughly into the sheets that he couldn’t breathe for a second. They were undone for just a second, and Sans bucked up and tried to throw Papyrus off. Papyrus didn’t budge, roughly clipping his hands back into cuffs as they lay above his head. He heard the sound of one pair of handcuffs being tossed onto the floor.

“Summon a pussy.”

“Wh-”

“NOW!” Papyrus said, grabbing his collar and lifting Sans’ body up. The leather of the collar pressed into his throat, restricting his breathing and making him want to panic. He focused on summoning, even though he was so confused and scared he could faint. Papyrus let him down when he noticed that a red glow began to shine on his pelvis, leaving Sans gasping for air and spluttering. As he caught his breath, Papyrus unbuckled his belt and he heard the zip of a zipper being pulled down. 

Sans forced himself to form his pussy, legs shaking.

“Good pet.” 

Papyrus already had his dick out, and Sans could feel it pressing against his spine. Papyrus forced his legs open and made him put his cuffed hands in front of him while Papyrus was behind him. Suddenly the collar was grabbed at the same moment as Papyrus slid his dick in, making Sans gasp brokenly. Papyrus used his collar to hold him up and place as he fucked Sans so hard he could barely breathe. 

Sans’ cuffed hands tried to grasp something, anything, but they were held at his sternum as Papyrus slammed into him from behind, shaking the whole bed. After a few minutes, Papyrus stopped and turned him around, looking at Sans’s face that was screwed up in pain. Sans was already on his knees but was startled when Papyrus wrenched his mouth open, throbbing red dick on his cheek.

“Suck.” 

“What?! N-no!” 

“Do it,” Papyrus growled, shoving his cock past Sans’ sharp teeth and into his throat. 

Gagging, Sans tried to pull back from the magic invading his mouth, but a hand forced his head down. Sans felt his face screw up in defiance, humiliated and in pain. Without giving it more than a second’s thought, he bit down as hard as he could. He heard Papyrus scream and he pulled out, leaving Sans coughing and trying to get to his feet.

When Papyrus recovered, it was eerily silent except for the sound of Sans’ cuffs clinking as he stood up and tried to run. Pulling the belt out of his pant’s belt loops, Papyrus cracked it across the back of the smaller skeleton’s kneecaps, sending him to the floor at the sudden shock. Advancing towards Sans, he snapped it down like a whip, striking the side of his skull as his pet tried to get up again. Sans shrieked and fell backwards, trying to cover himself, but the blows kept coming, all over his legs and arms and ribs. Every single blow made Sans scream in agony, leaving the bone burning like fire. It was so intense he couldn’t even speak to beg Papyrus to stop. It was what felt like thousands of whips later when Papyrus finally stopped, panting and standing over Sans’ small, shaking form. 

“If you _ever_ bite or disobey me again, you’ll be in a hell of a lot more pain than you are now,” the skeleton stated, and Sans heard metallic scraping sounds as he lay on the cold ground, sobbing. He didn’t realize those noises were Papyrus setting up a cage until he was grabbed by his arm, making him cry out as bones scraped on the blossoming marks and bruises all over his body. Papyrus tossed him in the cage, letting him hit the back and groan brokenly and his spine and ribs clacked against the metal. The cage door shut before Sans could even recuperate enough to raise his skull off the plastic bottom. It was a fucking dog crate. 

“If you behave tomorrow, maybe you’ll get dinner,” Papyrus spoke as he locked the cage, leaving the little skeleton there to curl up in a ball. Sans blacked out before he even heard Papyrus’ boots clicking across the floor to leave.

 

The next morning, he flickered back into consciousness when he hears Papyrus walking to his door, adrenaline rushing through him wildly. Ignoring his pain, he gasped and sat up, his chest heaving in panic and his arms trembling to support himself. Stars, Papyrus was gonna come in here and whip him or fuck him again or, or— 

Papyrus’ footsteps go right past the door. Sans was still in the throes of panic, but soon realized that at least for a few hours, he was safe. He wheezed as his injuries suddenly caught up with him, and he couldn’t help but collapse, body burning and aching all over. It was worse than burning in hell, he decided as he lay down, looking at the harsh red and purple welts on his arms. He can still feel that stupid collar on his throat, but he doesn’t have the energy to bother removing it. At least the chilly Snowdin air that seeped in through his window soothed him just a little. 

“Bark,” he whispers.

 

That evening, Papyrus finally gave him some food. It was just his shitty spaghetti, cold after being left out on the counter, but still it was something. He ate it off of the floor like a dog. He let Papyrus fuck him and tried to suck it up, not putting up much of a fight because he was tired and hurting. 

“I need to train you.” Papyrus thought out loud, looking at Sans, who was still sprawled out on the bed, gasping. Cum dripped down his pelvis. 

“H-how?” Sans says quietly.

“Like this,” Papyrus said, grabbing Sans’ leg and pulling him bodily off the bed, letting his spine hit the ground. 

“Ugh!” Sans grunted, unable to muffle the sound. Damn, that was gonna leave a bruise. 

“On all fours.” Papyrus commanded, walking away from Sans across the room. After Sans struggled and got into position, confused, Papyrus looked him right in the eye and said “Crawl.”

“But—”

“Shut up. I’m giving you one more chance before I come over there.”

“O-o-okay,” Sans stuttered, hurriedly following orders. He tensed as he approached Papyrus, his face burning in humiliation, but to his relief, Papyrus didn’t lay a hand on him. 

“Now go crawl across the room and to your cage, and get in.” Sans felt embarrassed as Papyrus watched him crawl across the dirty floor and get into a dog kennel. He fought down the urge to just stand up and disobey orders.

“Now come back.” 

They repeated this until Sans’ kneecaps were scraped and aching, his arms tired from holding himself up as well, the handcuffs still on and scratching at his wrists. At the end, Papyrus locked the cage, leaving him alone in the darkening room.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE READ THE TAGS!

It had been maybe a week or two, and Sans had became a little more used to everything. A little. 

Today, Sans was cowering in his cage, cum drying on his face. Currently, Papyrus was installing a metal pole in the room. He also noticed that Papyrus had brought in a suspicious plastic container in. Sans tried to take his mind off of how Papyrus could torture him with that pole and the tub by thinking of Grillby’s. Monsters were aggressive in Snowdin, yes, but most of the patrons were tolerable enough. Drunks were kicked out at certain hour and fights were always moved outside, and Grillby kept his establishment decently clean. Surprisingly, Sans was friends, or at least acquaintances with Grillby. Grillby had made some remarks about Sans, but it had never gone past a few drunk kisses. How he wished he could just play cards in the back kitchen at Grillby’s after hours instead of rotting away in this cell. 

Sans looked up as Papyrus walked over, wiping a bead of sweat off his forehead. Sans was too scared to look at the pole, and instead focused on his scraped hands that had been cuffed together for days. He froze when Papyrus opened the cage, grabbing his collar and dragging him towards the pole. Sans followed on all fours.

He looked at his restrained hands, but something other than fear rose up. It was anger. What happened!? Sans couldn’t control the hatred bubbling up inside of him. Why was Papyrus like this? What the hell did he really do to deserve this? Everything was okay before this! Before he could stop himself, Sans snapped. 

“I HATE YOU!” the skeleton screamed as he stood up, opening his mouth and biting down so hard on Papyrus’ that he felt the bone splinter under it a little. Papyrus was too startled to do anything for a second as Sans tackled him, hitting him in the jaw with his cuffed fists again and again. 

“I HATE YOU SO MUCH! I’M GONNA KILL YOU!” Sans roared, furiously tearing at Papyrus’ ulna as the older skeleton put up his forearm to block Sans and push him down. Anger flared in Papyrus’ eyes.

“WHY DID YOU DO THIS TO ME?!” Papyrus gave no response and grabbed one of Sans’ flailing arms. The smaller monster didn’t stop, shrieking and kicking Papyrus’, trying to twist out of his grasp with all of the strength he had. It didn’t work and Papyrus quickly restrained him to the chain attached to the pole, pulling the chain through his ulna and radius on both arms, leaving him dangling. Papyrus grabbed an extra length of chain, grabbing Sans’ legs before he got kicked in the face and tying them together to the pole, leaving Sans struggling in his binds and screaming threats at him, fury all over his face.

His brother stared at him for one second before he swung his fist back and gave Sans such a mighty punch that his vision went black for a moment. Sans paused, panting and trembling with rage as he glowered at his brother’s stupid, ugly mug. Just over a month ago, he admired his brother greatly. 

“I hate you,” Sans whispered, his voice cracking. 

“Say that again,” Papyrus dared.

“I _HATE_ you!” The captive skeleton bit out, baring his teeth and straining against the chains holding him back. 

Not even pausing, Papyrus brought up his boot and connected it to Sans’ pelvis. The monster stifled a shout of pain. He kept striking Sans all over, kicking his delicate little ribs and delighting in Sans’ scream when he kicked one too hard and the bone visibly cracked a little. His toes scrunched and if his hands were free, they would have been in fists. Bruises and scrapes littered his body and he eventually quieted, his head hanging limp and his breathing labored. Through blurry vision, he saw Papyrus approaching. 

“Obey me,” Papyrus snarled, knocking Sans’ head back against the pole with a metal ‘ting’ before stepping back to grab something he had recently bought… A spider gag. Eyes closed, Sans was unaware of his plan until Papyrus yanked his mouth open, quickly shoving the ring in behind his teeth before Sans could come to his senses and snap at him. Buckling it around his head, he smirked, satisfied with how Sans’ perfect mouth was open just for him. 

“Wake up,” Sans heard Papyrus hiss, and he forced his eyes open, wishing he had just passed out. His reaction had been too late, and now he had a gag in, a bit of bloody drool spilling over his lip. The only good thing Sans could draw from this situation that his brother was bleeding too, and his weak vision glanced at the shark-like bite marks on his arm. Sans maybe would’ve smiled a little if he wasn’t so beaten down.

“I’ll be back.” Papyrus vanished, and with that, Sans tested his bonds warily, his bruised bones aching. He didn’t have enough magic to teleport. By the time he realized there was little to no escape from the chains digging into him, Papyrus had returned, holding something in his hand. He triumphantly presented a pair of pliers to the monster chained to the pole, and suddenly, Sans had the thought. He wouldn't. Would he? He wasn’t sure what Papyrus would do now. 

Papyrus fingered one of Sans’ teeth, wobbly and bleeding from the harsh hits he had delivered. Sans hissed in pain and growled at him, turning his cheek away, and that seemed to make up Papyrus’ mind.

When he felt the click of the pliers around his tooth, his breathing sped up. Papyrus didn’t say a word as he clamped down hard and began to pull. Sans could hear the sound of the pliers scraping against bone and the tooth ripping from his skull as he screamed and begged incoherently. Agony pulsed in his head and the taste of copper filled his mouth, spit and blood leaking onto his chest. He dimly saw Papyrus hold up a sharp, pointed tooth covered with a dark crimson color, roots and all, with the pliers. Sans fainted. 

 

Sans is suddenly jolted back into reality, a scorching feeling washing all over him, stinging where his tooth had been pulled and burning the insides of his eye sockets as it splashed down his ribcage and to his legs. He would’ve screamed if he hadn’t already screamed his throat raw. He opened sockets to see Papyrus standing in front of him, holding a half-empty pot of bubbling, boiling water. 

“You’re just a little dirty,” he commented as he threw the rest of the container onto Sans just to hear him give a few weak sounds of agony through the gag. He could feel the scalds throbbing on his fresh bruises and cuts, and tears of pain and anger leaked out of his eyes to join his blood.

“Maybe tomorrow you’ll obey.”

Sans didn’t realized he had even lost consciousness for a moment or two until he felt his body suddenly drop to the floor like a ragdoll, pain lancing through his entire body as he hit the ground and the chains clanged against the metal. What felt like a knee forced him down and he felt anxiety begin to clog up his chest, but he didn’t have enough strength to try to escape. Someone, probably Papyrus, keeps touching his hands, folding them and covering them with some sort of material. After a few minutes, he is shoved into what he now knows is his cage. That was probably the worst night of his life. 

 

“Alright, we’re doing something new,” Papyrus states as he approaches the kennel where the tiny skeleton was curled up. It had been a few weeks since what Sans called ‘The Incident’, and he still wasn’t used to his new ‘paws’. Papyrus had told him matter-of-factly the next day as unlocked his cage that he was, in fact, his pet in all aspects. Sans had almost given up hope, looking at the white, bandage-like cloth that Papyrus used to bind down his fingers, effectively making them useless and more rounded, similar to paws.

After The Incident, Sans had begun to give up. There were no visitors to the house, and every time he showed an ounce of his old fire, Papyrus would punish him with whatever was nearby and nearly beat him into oblivion. He would’ve been harsher if Sans had more than 1 HP. 

Sans shut his eyes tight and tried not to show too much fear as Papyrus dragged him out, letting his bones scrape upon the stained floor as he dragged him to the pole. Papyrus had brought something new, and whenever he brought something new, Sans suffered. 

“This is a spreader bar,” Papyrus explained to Sans, forcing him to hold still and be silent as he attached his arms and legs to it, forcing him to bend over. He tried to break away from it when Papyrus tied the spreader bar to the pole, but he couldn’t budge it at all.

Sans felt exposed and humiliated as he manifested his pussy, legs spread, just like the first time Papyrus forced him to form one. He tried to look behind him, but Papyrus slapped his sore pelvis, snapping, “Eyes forwards.”

Sans ran his tongue through the gap where his tooth used to be to distract himself, trying not to tense up so much, but he couldn’t help it. He felt something cool and plastic-like touch his entrance and jumped, but was pleasantly surprised that it wasn’t shoved in right up to the hilt like it normally was. It was thrusted back and forth, earning a few moans that Sans tried to muffle. Something was going to go wrong.

He was right. A few moments later, another one- a dildo, he assumed- pressed against his hole, and he clenched in fear. It wouldn’t fit. He felt Papyrus’ hand against his pubic bone and tried to shift away, but had nowhere to go. The hand would have been comforting at one point, but now it made Sans want to vomit. Sans had trouble adjusting his magic, especially now, and Papyrus _knew_ this. He kept shoving the second dildo in, even though Sans was beginning to panic and cry at the intense stretch, wanting to stand up but being forced to bend over. 

It seemed to go on forever, the dildos going in at different speeds and angles but then he felt a hot, throbbing, real cock at his entrance shove in suddenly through the tightness. He screamed in agony as his pussy stretched to the limits, being pumped by three dicks at once. He couldn’t take it- it hurt, but they all kept rubbing on his sweet spot and he kept gasping and trying not to scream through his clenched teeth. His cheeks felt wet with tears. Eventually Papyrus stopped, pulling out everything at once. Sans sighed in relief, and something that kind of felt like blood dripped down his thighs. 

“You did good, and deserve a prize.”

What now?!

“Get rid of that pussy, slut.”

“O-okay-” 

“Did I say for you to talk!?” Papyrus shouted, smacking Sans’ sore, overstimulated clit before it could dissipate. Sans shrieked and his legs shook, trying to keep him upright. For once, he was glad he was tied up. If he wasn’t, he either would’ve collapsed or turned around and mauled Papyrus. 

He took a deep breath, trying to concentrate on something else, anything else, and staying quiet. He knew if he didn’t obey Papyrus, he might have to go through something like The Incident again.

He could barely hear Papyrus moving, and was startled when a hand touched his tailbone, jumping. The hand tightened threateningly, and Papyrus did not have to speak for Sans to understand. Don’t move. 

Something light touched his coccyx and he struggled to stay still. He felt a finger push it through the hole, and then threading it in and out, in an out, pulling something fuzzy against his backside. It was some sort of tie or string, and it kept getting tighter and more uncomfortable the more Papyrus passed it through the holes on his coccyx. 

Eventually it stopped, Papyrus finishing up by tying whatever it was in a tight knot. A tickling, furry sensation kept touching his lower body, and suddenly he realized what Papyrus had done. He had tied a fucking dog tail into Sans’ bones. 

Sans was released from the bar suddenly, leaving him sprawled out and too weak to get up, like a baby deer. Papyrus kicked him in the ribs, making him scramble across the floor and into the cage, his new tail trailing behind him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE READ THE TAGS!
> 
> i know i'm fairly unpopular, but if i made a tumblr, would anyone follow or look at it?

Ignoring the chain hanging from his leather collar, Sans bent over, gobbling up a clump of nearly frozen spaghetti off the floor. It must’ve been set out for one of Papyrus’ traps, because it was so cold snow crystals were visible and the noodles were crunchy. It was the only food he’d get in days and he knew it. Being on the chain was better than being cramped in the cage. His hands were uncuffed, due to the fact that a heavy padlock linked his collar and chain together. 

He pointedly studied a drop of dried fluid on the floor, trying to keep himself calm as Papyrus hammered boards to the windows, blocking out most of the light and covering up an escape route Sans had considered once or twice previously. He had also brought in a number of scary things and put them in Sans’ old dresser. Ropes, chains, gags, and even what looked like a knife were stored, and Papyrus had given him a lustful look before he left for work. Sans was certain he got off on watching Sans in pain. 

 

Later, while Papyrus had gone to work and Sans had stopped licking the floor to get any extra nutrients he could possibly find, he let his thoughts wander. He was angry and wanted to attack Papyrus, but he didn’t think he had enough health. He needed some sort of escape. Could he kill himself? He knew about resets, though he didn’t remember much from them. They were just a blur of memories and feelings, not all of them bad, not all of them good. If he committed suicide, Papyrus wouldn’t be able to hurt him. All he’d have left is a pile of measly dust. 

It was darker, meaning Papyrus would probably be home soon, so he’d have to hurry. Sans scooted towards the bed, where the chain had little slack. Leaning in close, he hooked it over the post of the bed. He took in one deep breath, closed his eyes, and went limp. Instantly the chain tightened and began to choke him, pressing into his throat, but he forced himself to not follow his instincts and get up. It hurt badly, but he grit his remaining teeth, watching as the bare room around him began to flutter and turn black around the edges after a few minutes. 

 

Papyrus stalked into the house, slamming the door behind him. He had been dealing with dumbasses all day, and he was ready to use Sans as his punching bag to fuck and relieve a little stress. He’d have to feed him again tomorrow, he was looking a little weak. 

He opened the door, glancing around to see that the chain was pulled taught, and there was his pet. Hanging. Limp. From the bed frame. Papyrus rushed over, yanking the chain off the post and letting Sans fall onto the ground. Bending down, Papyrus inspected his body, feeling something akin to concern that quickly turned to rage. He _owned_ that little bitch. Papyrus had the right to decide what to do with him, not him. 

His pet showed little sign of dusting, his chest rising and falling in a stuttering way after a few minutes of unconscious coughing and wheezing. A dark purple bruise wrapped around his neck like the collar he wore. Papyrus handled him a little more gently than usual, taking him off the chain and lock and putting him in his kennel, making sure to lock it tight. He’d beat his pet’s ass tomorrow once he had recovered enough that he wouldn’t dust. 

 

Sans woke up to the feeling of a slap on his face, and his breath wheezed in his throat a little. Stars, was he in another timeline where Papyrus was just as cruel? He willed his eyes to open, only to find that he was still locked in the same room as yesterday and his neck ached fiercely. Probably because Papyrus was grabbing his collar and throwing him towards a bin near his kennel. He didn’t notice it was filled with cold water until Papyrus made him kneel before it. Was this his drinking water from now on? 

“I’m so fucking sick of your attitude,” snarled Papyrus, standing up and kicking Sans’ pelvis. Sans crumpled with a cry, and he heard the clink of cuffs and his arms were pulled behind his back and restrained.

“If you want to die so fucking bad, you can now,” was all Sans heard before Papyrus yanked him up and shoved his head in the bin of water. It was so cold that he broke a thin layer of ice, scraping his face. Taken by surprise, Sans screamed, but only bubbles flew to the surface, the sound muffled. He kept struggling and struggling, feeling the water slosh out of the bin and wanting to gasp for air, but it wasn’t there. 

When his head was pulled out of the water, he coughed and sputtered, his throat and nose hole burning. Small chunks of ice ran down his face. Papyrus knelt down to his level.

“Who do you belong to?” He heard Papyrus say in his ear, tightening his grip on his neck and shoving Sans back into the water. Sans coughed and gagged, swallowing water before he could stop himself, and the sharp claws on his throat tightened. When he was released, he couldn’t breathe for a moment, gasping and choking. 

“Answer my question.”

Sans panted for breath, water rolling down his skull, but did not reply. Papyrus’ grip tightened on him, his jaw setting, and when Papyrus started to force him towards the water, Sans snapped his jaws at him like a hound. 

Before he could turn around and gnash his teeth any more, he felt a strong hand force his head into the bin. He thrashed with all his might, his panic and anger renewed. Papyrus let him up just as he began to gag on the frigid water, his breath stolen away. As he hacked and coughed, the other skeleton roughly spun him around, keeping a hold on his bonds, but looking him in the face.

“Behave.” 

Sans did nothing for a moment, only staring. Not a word was spoken between them. He felt his expression harden and his resolve stiffen. He hated Papyrus. _Hated_ him. 

Sans lunged forwards, pointed teeth flashing. He felt his jaw collide with Papyrus’ throat, sinking his teeth into the bone with a resounding _crack_. Papyrus screamed, the sound close to Sans’ ears and tried to yank Sans off, but he dug his teeth in, gripping his jaw tightly. If his hands weren’t wrapped tightly in the white material, he would have used them to help hold on. The taste of marrow flooded his mouth and Papyrus’ armor scratched against his cheek, but he refused to let go. He felt fingers grappling at his razor-like teeth, prying him off. 

Sans’ mouth was suddenly empty and he was thrown across the floor, bumping into the bin. Water sloshed out onto him and he scrambled to his knees, snarling at his attacker like a savage, wild animal. Blood dripped from his teeth and he spat a tiny chunk of bone out, baring his sharp teeth and shaking with adrenaline and cold. Papyrus held a hand up to his neck, which gushed marrow, dribbling down onto his body armor that, luckily for Sans, didn’t really cover his neck. 

Sans barely hesitated, flinging himself at Papyrus and trying to keep his handcuffed arms out of the way. It was the first time in weeks he was this bold, and he wasn’t going to stop. He felt weak and his legs shook, but if he could keep it up, he could distract Papyrus enough and make a break for it.

Papyrus, however, was ready. He grabbed a rib, earning a sharp cry as he shoved the small monster down. Sans twisted free of his hands with some effort, bones slippery with blood and cold water. He scrambled away, but wasn’t fast enough to escape Papyrus, who grabbed his legs and threw him down. Sans struggled valiantly, screaming, kicking, and chomping at air as Papyrus grabbed the back of his neck and forced him down. 

“I- was hoping I wouldn’t have to use the gag on you,” Papyrus snarled as Sans’ struggles began to weaken, but there was no mistaking the slight stumble of his words. A hand snatched up his flailing wrists and stepped on the chain, pinning his arms down. He was too weak now to bite at the thick material of Papyrus’ boots, and it wouldn’t do much damage anyways. Defeat and misery weighed on his shoulders.

His chance of escape was extremely low now. He looked up to see Papyrus using a long arm to reach over and open the drawer. It was a stretch, but Sans saw him hook a strap around his finger. The tiny skeleton lay on the floor, shaking and struggling to get up. The brief fight had tired him out more than his body could afford and he felt weak. 

He growled at the larger skeleton, who quickly forced his jaw open and shoved in a ball before Sans could catch a finger. His teeth instead sunk into rubber, and before he could properly react, a strap was being tightened around the back of his head.

 

He struggled to gnash his teeth, his jaw forced open around the gag. A ball gag. Sans was stuck between anger and a feeling of hopelessness as his jaw hung open, drool stained red by Papyrus’ blood slowly pooling out of his mouth. 

Papyrus had knelt down and was focusing what was obviously healing magic onto his neck, hissing in pain. The wound itself began to bind itself back together, stopping the flow of fresh marrow and leaving what would most likely be a faint scar under all of the blood. Sans watched as the dark red magic began to fade and Papyrus slowly got up, recovering from the loss of magic. 

When he turned around, he looked at Sans, who was now on his knees and trying to rip apart the binding material over his hands so he could undo his gag. He stormed over, grabbed the skeleton’s skinny wrists, and dragged him over to the water container. The water that had been splashed on the floor earlier was now pooled around all over the place, and Sans’ knees scraped through the mess. 

Papyrus took both hands, roughly grasped his skull, and plunged him into the freezing water. He pushed Sans into the tub so deep that the the ice cold water reached halfway up his ribs. He felt Sans shaking and trying to thrash underneath his grip, and released him as soon his little pet began to grow limp. 

The skeleton tugged him out of the water, feeling the chilliness seep through his armor. Sans was too weak to hold himself up, breathing through achy, stinging passages as he leaned against Papyrus’ ribcage, trembling slightly. The ballgag made it harder to breath.

“From now on, you will know me as Master. Do you understand?” 

Sans nodded slowly, feeling the straps of the gag rubbing against his skull. Papyrus looked at his pet’s expression, scared and broken. His fire had finally died down, leaving behind an obviously more compliant slave. 

“Now, do you still want to die?” Papyrus asked in a deceivingly sweet tone, gently stroking Sans’ trembling thighs. Sans didn’t know quite what to do. He shook his head no cautiously, knowing he was too weak to survive any more fighting or beatings right now.

“Uh-huh,” Papyrus said sarcastically.

 

Sans couldn’t even finish nodding before Papyrus suddenly grabbed Sans’ frail body and nearly launched him into the water. His nose touched the bottom of the plastic and he could feel the bitterly cold water up to his sternum. He thrashed his legs and bound arms desperately, trying to hold his breath but failing, feeling the bubbles tickle his face and his spine pressing against the edge of the container. He was sure he was going to die, and almost hoped so. The monster was only relieved of his suffering when the other skeleton wrenched him out of the tub, tossing him roughly to the ground. 

Sans was too weak to move, gagging up water around the ballgag and shaking on the floor in a puddle, now bluish bones clattering and bloody. Water ran out of his sockets, looking like the tears his tormentor liked to see.

“Now, what is my name?”

Sans looked up slowly, barely able to lift his head to look at the skeleton towering above him. This wasn’t his brother, and this wasn’t Papyrus. Not anymore.

Master.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the late update, i was traveling! this is a short chapter, but i hope it’s alright.
> 
> PLEASE READ THE TAGS!

Sans barely made it through that night, his bones shaking and clattering together. 

Master had healed him enough that he wouldn’t dust, but his HP was only at .60. Dusting was always a very real possibility for him. He was so desperate he even used the wretched tail to cover up part of his body, his bones tender and aching from the tightness of the ties. He couldn’t blow hot breath on his binded hands, and instead used what little magic he had left to warm himself. It didn’t help that outside, it was snowing. There were a few small gaps in the boards, and Sans could see snowflakes drifting by the window. At least he wasn’t outside. 

Master gave him food for two evenings after, and the scraps thrown on the floor were a little less frozen than normal. Sans was satisfied to see that Papyrus looked a little wary when he momentarily unhooked the gag for Sans to eat off the floor. When he saw that Sans had been trying to use the tail to try to stay warm, something scary flashed in his expression. 

He was still having trouble keeping his body temperature up. Master walked in one morning, looking pleased with himself. He did not speak to Sans as he dragged in a wooden chair from the kitchen and an old table with ease. 

The door was firmly shut. With the chair now in the middle of the room, Master turned around and stalked to Sans’ cage, opening it up and signalling for Sans to emerge from his kennel. 

Sans cautiously followed the monster, and was surprised when Master ordered him to sit in the chair. It was strange to be treated normally, and he could have almost forgotten where he was for a second if he didn’t have a gag forcing his jaw open. Master grabbed his left hand and placed it on the table, and Sans didn’t need to hear any orders to know what to do. If he moved his hand, Master would probably beat him within an inch of his life. The white material wrapped around his hands was removed, and he slowly stretched his fingers in relief.

The feeling of relief didn’t last long. 

Sans shut his eyes and tried to stay calm, listening to the clang of handcuffs as Master restrained his right hand to the chair’s arm. He tried to calm his breathing, which was beginning to grow ragged and panicky through the ballgag. His phalanges twitched in fright, and he flinched when a heavy hand pinned his wrist securely to the table. 

His eyes flew open when something thin and cold touched his hand. Master was running a butcher knife over his hand, creeping towards his fingers, which jumped as he tried to pull away, breathing harshly. Master lit his fire magic and focused it on the knife, and Sans watched, nearly writhing in panic as the knife began to glow orange after a minute of exposure. Grip only tightening, he stopped heating up the weapon, raising it above Sans’ trembling fingers. No, no, no, no- 

The skeleton watched in horror as the knife was brought down upon his fingers, cleanly chopping off his middle finger at the second joint. 

Sans _screamed._

He cried out, trying to twist away. Dark marrow should’ve gushed out of his finger, but the hot knife cauterized it. Agony spread in pulsing waves over his entire limb, and he shrieked as his ring finger was lopped off, leaving him screaming and begging through the gag, words incomprehensible. Master didn’t stop and kept slicing his phalanges off, leaving behind scorched knubs. Black flickered around the edges of the skeleton’s vision. 

The butcher knife caught on his thumb, and his torturer sank the knife in and sawed it off quickly, leaving his detached thumb laying on the table. Sans sobbed and screamed, trying to twist back so hard he nearly dislocated his shoulder. He couldn’t even hear the jingle of the chain’s cuffs and the sizzle of the burning hot metal sinking into his bone over his muffled wails. 

 

“You up for a game of cards?” 

Sans leaned over the bar to look at Grillby, who was cleaning up the bar. It was dim and lit only by the kitchen’s light and Grillby’s fire. Sans was already tipsy, but Grillby didn’t seem to mind. 

“Alright. You going to choose the game?” came the crackled voice, and Sans chuckled. He played cards with Grillby after hours a few times a week. The taller monster put down few glasses, brushed off his vest, and walked around the bar to sit on the stool next to Sans. The skeleton whipped a stack of cards out of his jacket, winking. 

“Okay. How about… Go Fish?” Sans finally decided, and Grillby laughed at this, his purple fire flaring a little. 

“Okay,” the monster replied, taking the deck and passing out the cards needed for the game. The cards were old and singed around some of the edges, but the numbers and suites were still legible. Sans took his cards, feeling happy when their hands brushed and Grillby’s fire subtly flickered in… Excitement? Embarrassment? 

Grillby looked into Sans’ eyes and Sans winked again, earning another crackling laugh as his warm thumb rubbed over his boney hand. They both leaned forwards and met in the middle. It was a little sloppy and he knew he probably tasted like alcohol, but Sans’ soul beat with what could maybe be called affection. No one in Snowdin showed any sort of kindness in public, and Grillby was no exception, but in private, maybe he didn’t have to be so tough. He’d been hurt before, but so far, Grillby hadn’t betrayed him yet.

Face suddenly very warm, Sans pulled back, his teeth pulled in a sheepish grin. Their game was abandoned on the table. 

 

When Sans came to, he could barely breathe. Waves of pain ran over his arms, throbbing and making him clench his teeth and hold back tears. He could barely crack his eyes open. When his eyes finally landed on his hands, he gasped in horror. Stubs replaced what were once his fingers, the bone blackened and inflamed around the edges. Both of his thumbs were just small lumps, and when he tried to move his hand to get a better look, pain shot up his arm and made him gasp harshly, feeling like he had been burned all over again. 

Papyrus was nowhere to be seen and the room was eerily still. Cuffs were still clipped on the chair, dangling down. The knife was on the edge of the table, now looking like a reflection of his hands. It was no longer a searing orange hue, but grey again, the metal looking rugged and a burned. 

Something caught his eye and he shifted slightly to get a better look, wincing. His blood ran cold as he realized what it was that laid on the table, looking almost… innocent. All of his detached fingertips were held in a loose pile on the tabletop. 

Sans would have puked if he had enough excess magic.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE READ THE TAGS!
> 
> this chapter is slightly longer.  
> introducing: underfell undyne!   
> also, i got a tumblr! it's https://cheery-shrimp.tumblr.com/ . i will start posting all of the chapters on tumblr in case anyone prefers the tumblr format over ao3 :)
> 
> i imagine sans’ hands to look similar to this image, to clarify: http://www.medicalartresources.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/11/missing-multiple-fingers-hand-palm.jpg

God, he _had_ to get out of here, Sans thought as he nervously licked a stripe up Master’s cock. He was kneeling, face to his crotch while Master sat on his old bed. 

“Do a good job and I’ll reward you,” he heard as a hand rested on his skull, on the verge of pushing him down farther as he sucked on the head. It didn’t matter if he did a good job or not. He didn’t have a choice. 

Sans tried not to gag, delicately using the palms of his hands to keep his balance by grabbing the other monster’s boot. Tongue swirling over the throbbing heat, he felt the thick cock pushing past his teeth and farther down his throat. Tears threatened to spill onto his cheeks, which were puffed as he bobbed his head up and down, keeping his tongue flat on the underside of Master’s member. The only sign that Master was close was that he moaned a little and the grip on the crown of his skull tightened, pressing him down farther. Sans let out a strangled noise as his nose touched the bone of Master’s pelvis, struggling to swallow. 

Master finally came, spurting cum down Sans’ throat, he gave a small moan. The skeleton forced himself to swallow his seed, wanting nothing more than to heave it up. When Master released his hold on Sans, he fell forwards and let out a weak cough, gasping for air. His jaw ached. The gag was only removed for food and sucking Master off.

“Hm,” the larger skeleton commented, only a slight gasp in his voice. “I think you did a good job.” 

With that, he stood up a little abruptly, making Sans startle backwards. There was the sound of a packet being ripped open and Sans looked away, hearing the faint sound of his own bones clattering in fear. He just closed his eyes and hoped that whatever was going to happen would be over soon. He flinched but didn’t pull away when his hand was gently taken, his arms twitching in the urge to jerk back. At least he wasn’t cuffed. 

A cool sensation spread over the small, charred stumps of his hands and Sans nearly collapsed with relief. His eyes fluttered open and he looked to see that Master was spreading a burn-relief gel on his hands, infused with healing magic. He felt disgust as he looked at his stumpy bones. He knew why Master did it. It disabled him. 

His fingers still ached fiercely, but it felt infinitely better than before. Sans wasn’t sure why the other monster was bothering to heal him now, or why he wanted to hurt him in the first place. 

The previously forgotten ball gag was picked up off the floor, but to his amazement, Master did not force it back into his mouth, instead setting it on the dirty mattress. He was ushered back into his kennel with only a kick, the cage being locked securely behind him. Maybe he was being treated a little better because of his injury. He knew he was only at .75, anyways. 

Master left the room wordlessly. 

Maybe now was his chance. His health was up enough, wasn’t it? Sans waited a few minutes, because if he left now, he would run into Master. He concentrated, willing with every bone in his body that he could just _leave_ , feeling that old pull of magic that used to come to him in a snap. He struggled, but eventually his magic, weak as it was, came to him.

When he landed in the snow on his tailbone outside of the house, he almost thought he was dreaming. Sans had to sit for a moment to gain his strength, but eventually struggled to his feet, feeling cold. Snow crunched under him as he made unsteady footsteps, but he didn’t mind as much as he used to. He couldn’t go to Grillby’s— his friend couldn’t see him like this. 

A whimsun, the only monster other than him in the empty street looked at him from across the road, it’s expression cross and judgy. Sans snarled at it and took a step forwards to complete his facade of tough monster, even though he was currently naked. The monster fled, wings fluttering, much to his relief. 

He was only at Waterfall when his legs began to shake too much for him to walk, burning and trembling. He managed to collapse behind a large rock. 

It overshadowed him, so he sat in the darkness, damp and chilly, but free. He looked at what was left of his hands and scowled, anger rising in his throat again. What the fuck had he ever done to him? He blinked away tears of frustration, deciding to focus on something else instead. His collar. The skeleton had been too afraid to remove it previously, but he wasn’t at the house anymore. 

Hands trembling, he reached up, feeling for the buckle. He couldn’t even grasp it, gasping at the shocks of pain that traveled through his arms at the contact on his burnt stubs. 

A nearby echo flower copied his grunts of pain, repeating as Sans huffed and struggled to get the collar off. Sans quieted down after that. He didn’t need an echo flower picking up a sound that was too loud and revealing his location to other monsters. 

After a few minutes of stifled yelps and aching, burning hands, he managed to release himself. The collar fell from his neck and onto the stone floor. His neck felt exposed, the weight of the collar gone and on the ground instead. He gazed up at the crystals illuminating the cave, feeling just an overwhelming sense of relief to have a break. 

The skeleton touched the light bruise on his vertebrae due to how tight the collar had been, and a bruise that he was sure was much darker still lingered from his suicide attempt only a week or two ago. He knew he wasn’t quite safe from his Master, but if he hid well enough, he wouldn’t be found. Sans would stay in hiding, but maybe, just maybe, he’d be free. Waterfall was fairly quiet other than the trickling of water and echo flowers repeating tiny snippets of conversation.

 

“C’mon, before we’re caught,” one echo flower whispered, and a nearby one replied back with a ‘Shhh!”, repeating the same line over and over. Sans wondered what happened to the monsters before him that were in Waterfall.

He began to relax a little as he reached behind him and tried to claw off his fake tail, maybe trying to gain some strength back. 

“Hey!” A voice snarled, rough and too familiar. He froze. Stars, please, no—

An armored hand grabbed his shoulder and spun him around, and he wasn’t surprised to see Undyne. Her armor glinted slightly in the dim light, and her slitted eyes fixed on him. 

“I should return you to Papyrus,” she said, flashing a humorless smile. That did it. Sans sprung to his feet and tried to scramble away, only for him to be tripped. He crashed to the ground and a heavy boot pressed on his spine, threatening to snap the brittle bone just like that. His health went down, he felt it. .60. 

Undyne lifted her heavy boot, armor clanking. She must have known that she could easily have dusted Sans just then. Sans lay on the ground, frozen in fear, but flinched away when Undyne grabbed his arm, hooking her fingers between his ulna and radius to keep a steady grip on him. 

“C’mon, dog,” she laughed mockingly, dragging him along at a pace faster than he preferred. He tried to put up a fight, pulling away from her hold, as she had not expected him to try to escape. Sans darted away as fast as he could, water splashing, but Undyne was much faster, catching up quickly. She snatched at his upper body, catching a rib and pulling him backwards.

Sans let out a grunt, feeling his rib creak under the pressure of her hand. So much for freedom.

 

Undyne rapped on the door three times, waiting almost impatiently for an answer.

When Master answered, looking defensive, he looked at Undyne and his expression became slightly less guarded. Sans knew that Undyne and his Master were close— whether as friends or just two monsters with a combined love for suffering and violence. Sans wasn’t sure which. 

His face held a steady, burning rage when he looked down to see Sans, collarless and restrained by Undyne.

“I found something of yours,” Undyne said, leering at the tiny skeleton. 

“I see,” Master said, the crimson magic burning in his eyes and flaring out. Sans gulped.

He felt a hand take him from Undyne, grabbing his throat and slamming him against the living room wall with a crash. 

“You’re in so much trouble.”

When he let Sans down to the floor, wheezing, the skeleton looked at Undyne. 

“Say, would you like to have a toy for a little bit?”

Stars, he was in so much trouble, and adding Undyne to the mix was just making it much worse. 

“Sure. Damn, you’ve got him trained,” commented Undyne as Sans scrabbled weakly on all fours, too afraid or maybe just too weak to stand up properly. 

Master twisted Sans’ arm harshly as he forced him inside, Undyne on their heels.

“Obviously not good enough.”

“That can be fixed, can’t it?” The question slipped from Undyne’s mouth, and he saw the smirk on his Master’s face as he uttered, “Definitely.”

None of the monsters said a word after that. 

They made their way up the stairs, Sans struggling to keep up with Master’s stride. He hid it and seemed only a little mad, but Sans knew he was pissed.

Sans was thrown harshly onto the floor when they arrived to his room was more of a cell at this point. 

“Nice setup. I had been wondering what happened to that little rat,” the fish monster said as if Sans wasn’t even there, or like he was a pet, too stupid to understand what was being said. 

However, the way she commented on the ‘setup’ made a chill run through him. Was _this_ , what Sans had to go through— was it common? He had known of this before— monsters on leashes like pets, but had looked away, a tiny spark of pity in his chest. He couldn’t have afforded to have any soft feelings, and it was the same now. 

“Hmm… Maybe he could play with my pet?” she asked, flashing a grin at his Master, which was returned with a sly smile. 

_Pet?!_

“Grab those chains for me.” 

A hum of confirmation was given. The rattle of chains being dragged across concrete floor was heard, and Sans was slammed against the pole unceremoniously by Master, his wrists strung up above him. He wanted to beg, but he knew Master didn’t like when he talked. His feet barely touched the floor, all of his measly weight hanging on his arms. The stupid false tail dangled below him, somehow making him feel more humiliated. 

He somehow felt more exposed than ever, and whimpered when the ball of the gag was hovered near his mouth. Sans hesitated, but snapped his mouth open when he felt Master’s sharp fingers tighten on the back of his neck, digging into the bruised vertebrae.

“You thought you could get away, didn’t you?” his Master said as he tightened the strap much more tightly than necessary and clasped the gag, forcing his jaw back into the same painful position it was always in. 

“You escaped. You took off your collar, ran from me, and _disobeyed me_.” This statement was finished with a growl in his voice. 

“Do not _ever_ attempt this again.” 

Sans had no time to respond before Master slammed his fist into his cheek, making Sans flinch back and yelp, cheek aching. 

“Do you mind?” Undyne asked curiously after watching, motioning to her fist. Master looked Sans right in the eye. 

“Not at all.”

He didn’t even blink before Undyne hit him with a sharp right hook, forcing his skull back at the impact. He knew a bruise would blossom soon, especially when Undyne swung a few more times, the armor on her hands cutting his cheek. A tiny trickle of marrow dribbled down his face.

Her fists kept raining down on him, powerful and nearly equal to his Master in just how hard she hit. He hissed, yelped, and writhed in pain, but it didn’t stop. Eventually he began to grow limp, only letting out small, unintentional noises. Sans let himself drift away from the pain, in some sort of space where he felt numb. It was like he was watching this all happen from a different point of view, detached and neutral. Sans watched blankly as her boot came up to kick him, connecting with the delicate bones in his feet. He knew something must have broke, because the pain was much sharper, bringing him closer back to reality. 

Eventually it stopped, but Sans was still floating. He began to sink back into his body again, and was slapped by Master, who then ran a sharp finger along a scrape on his cheek almost possessively. That brought him back fully. 

He looked up at the smirking face of at the ground to see that two of his sharp teeth lay there, blood from various injuries splattering the floor. Sans suddenly noticed just how bad everything hurt, the spit and blood dripping out of his mouth, tears wetting his face, the chains digging into him, the gag choking him, his split rib, the bruises forming on his body--

Master hit him again, bringing him back into focus. It took slightly longer to focus his vision, but he looked up, feeling like a thousand pounds weighed on his head. This wasn’t the first time he had been beaten like this, but he never got used to it. 

“I hope you’ve learned your lesson. You were doing so good, too,” his Master said, reaching up and loosening the chains, pulling his arms out of his bonds. Sans immediately collapsed, but was caught by his Master, who looked annoyed. He was brought towards the middle of the room near the table and was dropped on the floor, knocking the breath right out of him. 

“Cuff him. I’ll be back in a moment,” Master commanded. 

Undyne said nothing, but he knew she was glancing around the room for the dreaded handcuffs. When she picked them up off the bed, she yanked his trembling, bruised arms behind his back, cuffing between his ulnas and radiuses much tighter than necessary. He would have begged now that his Master was gone, but all he could do was choke on the metallic taste of the blood in his mouth. A single drop of it fell from his mouth and onto the floor.

The footsteps soon returned, and he faintly heard them approaching the room, getting louder. He couldn’t stop the familiar rush of anxiety he felt when he heard those boots on the carpet in the hallway. 

There was a pause. 

“Branding?” He heard Undyne say, evilly surprised. “You sure the runt will survive it?”

Sans nearly fainted. Branding? No no no no no— 

“He will.” Came his Master’s voice, firm. 

“Make sure he can’t move too much, or it’ll be crooked. Can’t have that, now can we?” 

Undyne complied and held him down, the plate of her armored knee digging into his ribs. He whimpered, trying to buck up, but could barely move. She was much stronger than she looked, even with her armor still on from her rounds. 

The sound of tools being prepared and shuffling made him stiffen more than before, a heave of panicked breath leaving his nasal cavity. A gloved hand pressed his skull flat to the floor.

He waited, breath ragged as the suspense and tension built. It was worse than if they had just gone ahead and done it immediately. 

_’P’._

There was no sound or warning when the first letter was pressed into his shoulder blade. For a second, his body didn’t seem to process it, but then it hit him harshly. Sans screamed, the gag barely muffling the sound erupting from him. The pain was worse than when his fingers had been removed, searing and fiery. The letter just kept sinking deeper into his bone as he screamed, throat raw and his ribs clattering. Undyne kept a steady grip on him, pushing him into the floor with what seemed not much effort.

 _’E’._ The next letter felt even longer, an eternity of pain. Sans tried to speak, tried to scream through the gag or look at the other monster and hope he took pity and stopped, but to no avail. Master did not look at him. Flecks of blood and spit speckled the floor in front of him, and the strong hand on the back of his skull made him feel like a trapped wild animal. Dizziness made his head spin, black edging around his vision, nausea rising in him due to the sheer agony of it all. 

Last was the letter _’T’,_ scalded right into his bone, digging in and making him feel like his bone was being ripped apart. The pain was too intense for him to just try to drift away— it forced him through it with no mercy. Through his haze of tears and screams, he knew that it was nearly over, but he couldn’t stop the hoarse screams of pain spilling out from around his gag. 

The weight eventually rose and left him, and he heard voices talking, but his mind couldn’t seem to comprehend it. A buzzing noise seemed to fill his skull and his breathing was sharp, only punctuated by sobs. 

He lay on the floor facedown, eye sockets blank and his bones coursing with almost unimaginable agony.

_.25/1_

He felt sharp claws grab him, shoving him into his kennel. Sans nearly blacked out when the burned bone touched the cage bars. He didn’t even notice when the cage was shut, didn’t notice that his cuffs were still locked, didn’t notice that the gag was still in and that his teeth were on the floor. 

“Pet. How fitting,” the beast said, leaving Sans tied up and branded in his own personal hell.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi! sorry for the wait! i’ve been very busy recently and had a writer’s block, so i decided to take a 2 week break. this chapter isn’t my best, but i hope you guys enjoy this week’s update of sans getting tortured!
> 
> my tumblr is https://cheery-shrimp.tumblr.com/ :)

Sans doesn’t even know what time it is when he wakes up.

He could barely open his eyes, his bones stiff and achy, locked in place by the immense pain. The monster was laying on the bottom of his cage in the same position he had been in last night. Cuffs were still latched onto his wrists, and the wretched ballgag still forced his mouth open. He drifted in and out of consciousness, his blurry vision of the room not comprehending the shape moving around. 

He didn’t even look up or scamper backwards like he normally did when the door of his kennel creaked open. 

“I believe you’ve learned your lesson,” a voice said distantly, and Sans couldn’t even bring himself to open his eyes, only letting out a tormented cry when he was dragged out of his cage. The pain was indescribable as the bars scraped against his burns, and it helped snap him out of his haze. 

He was tossed on the bare mattress with little effort from Master. He couldn’t remember what happened to his pillow or his blankets. He didn’t even know what happened to his clothes after that first night. All of his senses seemed to hone in on the searing burn on his shoulder blade and his aching finger stumps, all other cuts and bruises fading into the background. 

Sharp, clawed fingers scraped over his bones, but he didn’t have enough strength left in his body to tense. 

He checked his health.

.16/1.

No wonder he was so weak. His body felt heavy and light at the same time, like he was about to just fade away. He probably was. 

The monster could still feel his hands still touching him as the heat of Master’s magic was summoned. It was a dark crimson behind his lids, and when he cracked a socket open, he could see the strong, shimmering red color of his magic washing over his bones. He relaxed slightly, unable to keep a sigh of relief from escaping as a portion of the pain lifted. It felt nice, but he could feel the undertone of possessiveness in the magic as it wrapped around his soul, raising his health bar. It made him shudder in disgust. He knew Master was only healing him so he wouldn’t dust. Then who would he torture?

He felt clearer and more alert now, and the overall ache in his body had lifted a little. The smallest of his bruises and cuts had healed up, leaving only traces. 

Sans checked his health again.

.90/1.

This was the highest his health had been in weeks. Months? He wasn’t sure how long he had been here. The skeleton had given up trying to count the days.

Sans jumped when something touched his neck, immediately tensing again. He couldn’t trust this monster. He couldn’t relax.

“You took off your collar, so now you get a new one,” Master stated, wrapping something around the vertebrae. Cool metal poked his bone and he felt the strip tighten around his neck, much tighter than his previous collar. The metal spikes dug in sharply and he wheezed, bringing his still-cuffed hands up to his throat. The collar was fastened, leaving the spikes pressing uncomfortably into his bone. 

When he gently ran his palm over the collar, all he felt was smooth leather. Master must have put his collar on inside out, just so that it hurt him. He didn’t know if it was hatred or fear that twisted in his gut. 

He felt the touch of bone against his bruised pelvis and braced himself for another session.

 

Sans lay prone on the bed, gasping and feeling nauseous. He could feel cum drying on his ribs. He couldn’t forgive himself for this. Why couldn’t he be strong? Why couldn’t he fight? His body twitched, but he couldn’t gather up enough strength just yet to rub the blossoming bruise lining his throat. He coughed a little, trying to catch his breath. 

“Because you were a good boy, I won’t beat you tonight,” Master simpered, rubbing a clawed hand up and down his arm in a gesture of faux kindness. He stepped away from Sans’ view, and the sounds of shuffling inside of the drawer across the room. Nervousness overtook him and he forced himself to sit up warily as the tall skeleton walked back over to the mattress.

In one hand he held four small bullets and a roll of tape.

Vibrators. 

Sans flinched backwards when he was grabbed with his free hand. That earned a scowl from his Master, but to his relief, nothing else happened. 

His cuffs were immediately attached to the bed frame, clicked in tightly. His bones shook as a vibrator was taped to his spine, but then Master hesitated. Sans dared to look up and saw that he had a smirk on his face.

“I was going to tape these on you, but I have a better idea.”

He let out a questioning, muffled sound through his gag, his eyes frantically darting to his pelvic area, where he could feel touching. He heard the sound of tape being peeled off, felt the material try to stick to his bone before it was ripped off. 

Touching. The scrapes of bone on bone, of any contact at all, made his stomach roil. He took a deep breath to calm himself, closing his eyes tightly. 

 

“Summon.”

It was a command he was used to by now. Shaking, he forced his jittery magic into a pussy, anxiety creeping over his body. He wanted to close his legs so, so badly, but resisted, trying to take another deep breath and calm himself. It wasn’t working very well. 

Fingers traced around his clit, and he tried to block out the fact that it didn’t feel _bad_. A vibrator was inserted into his hole, breaching the entrance and going in further as he shifted nervously. He stopped, wincing, as pangs ran through the word PET engraved on his bone. The vibrator was pushed back further and further as the next two were added. It didn’t quite hurt, but he still wanted them out. He wanted to leave. 

The last remaining bullet was shoved into his pussy, much to Sans’ growing discomfort. 

“I’m going to work. We will be paying Undyne a visit tomorrow.” He snapped his fingers and walked out the door. 

If he hadn’t been cuffed to the bed frame, he would’ve collapsed. He writhed as all four began to vibrate at the same time. The vibrations were strong, eliciting pleasure as they kept buzzing, sending shivers up his spine. He hated that he couldn’t quite contain his moans, his hips bucking to seek that delicious pleasure. He kept approaching his climax at a high speed, unable to keep his hips from jerking forwards to chase the feeling. The bed frame shook slightly as he pulled on his cuffs, panting as he was pushed over into climax. His walls clenched around the bullets, making his orgasm even more intense. He gasped, bliss running through his body, and for a second he forgot where he was. 

It was much stronger than any orgasm he had ever had, but he couldn’t come down from his high— The buzzing feeling didn’t shut off. They kept buzzing and buzzing, stimulating him further. It felt good, but his lust began to transition to panic when the vibrators didn’t stop. His hips flinched away in pain but still bucked into it at the same time, shuddering and unable to decide how to feel. He hated that it didn’t feel completely horrible.

It was only a few moments of muffled gasping until he was on his second orgasm, unable to contain the shriek from his mouth. Sans didn’t notice he was crying until a drop fell off of his wet cheeks and onto his collarbone.

He couldn’t seem to just drift into that hidden place like he always did, forced to experience all of it. 

He pulled hard on his binds, but only succeeded in yanking on his ulna and radius so hard it ached and making the branding on his shoulder blade come ablaze with pain. . He couldn’t just pry his bones apart to get out, though Sans wished he could. The sound of his heavy breathing and stifled sounds rang throughout the small room.

He felt like an exposed wire, twitching and bouncing and unable to control the sounds coming from his mouth. The room felt much too hot, a slick sheen of sweat covering his body, his chest heaving in erratic breaths. His own juices dripped down his quaking legs and coated his fake tail, and his wrists were chafed raw from trying to escape over and over.

His body wouldn’t let him pass out and his nerves were frayed, leaving him pulling on his binds, trying to find any way of getting out though he knew it was impossible. He couldn’t concentrate and he could barely breathe, his magic struggling to even maintain its shape. 

He could feel the room closing in on him, the walls suddenly looming over him like his Master always did. The skeleton tried to take in gulps of air, but he felt like he couldn’t breathe through all of the sensations, gagging on the ballgag and letting out cries as liquid fire climbed up his spine. It felt too hot and tight, like he was going to burst, he couldn’t move, he couldn’t breathe, _he couldn’t breathe—_

By the time Master got back, he was sobbing and screaming.

 

Sans swallowed, running his tongue on the underside of Master’s cock. He did not dare pull back, bobbing his head up and down and taking in ragged breaths in through his naval cavity. His bones quivered with exhaustion and overstimulation, and his throat was scratchy and sore from yesterday’s bouts of screaming. He had begged and cried, and his Master seemed amused enough and turned off the vibrators, but not before making Sans suck him off again. He didn’t seem scared of Sans’ teeth anymore, and liked to put his phalanges in the various gaps where his teeth used to be.

He must have gotten distracted, because he felt himself gag when cum washed down his throat. 

“You love sucking my cock, don’t you?” He heard the other monster taunt, and he nodded numbly.

Just obey, he told himself.

He shifted back as Master stood up, standing tall over him like always. The little monster worked his jaw and ran his tongue over his sharp teeth before he could be gagged again, trying to rid himself of the ache he had. 

It was not long before Master bent down a little, looking him square in the face. Sans nervously averted his gaze, eye lights flickering. The gag was in his hand, the red ball crusted with dried blood and drool. Sans let out an unintentional whimper.

“How precious,” his Master remarked slyly as he buckled Sans’ ballgag back in, forcing his mouth open once more. Soon, he would have drool pooling out of his mouth once more. He didn’t like that he was rather used to it now.

Sans was startled when a leash was presented to him, flinching back as his mind screamed that the leash was a whip and that he was going to be beaten down again. He must have zoned out. It was becoming an increasingly common habit.

The leash was a dark black color, sturdy with the clips shiny. 

He turned his bruised skull downwards obediently, praying to whatever god there was that this wasn’t going to be another horrible experience. 

Master bent down once more. 

He clipped the leash on his inside-out collar, rubbing uncomfortably against his throat. Master motioned roughly for him to follow, stepping towards the doorway of the room. The door was opened. He hid his surprise as he was led out of his cell, his sockets widening. It looked identical as it had been before… Before everything. 

Carpet rubbed on his palms and badly chafed knees. Maybe he was just being trained again. That was okay. Maybe he could do this. He would be good. He could do this, he tried to convince himself as he stumbled down the stair steps, the brand in his shoulder stinging with agony. 

When they reached the bottom, Sans relaxed slightly, trying to catch his breath. He had grown weaker and weaker, despite the fact that he had had a healing session the previous night. 

He trailed after his Master, keeping his eyes on the ground. He didn’t look at the furniture or the paintings or the kitchen— that was his old life. 

He hesitated when with a click the front door was freaked open. The snow was so bright it nearly blinded him, making him squint. Panic rose in his throat as Master tried to tug him outside. No, no, no! He couldn’t be seen like this. 

He heard the taller monster hiss in annoyance, yanking the leash so hard that Sans tumbled out onto the tiny porch, flakes of snow flying into the air. The air was instantly colder, soothing on his burning bones, but it was one of the only comforts. 

Anxiety made him tremble as he was dragged outside, his fate sealed as the front door shut and locked behind them. He was suddenly acutely aware of his tail and gag, as well as the collar tightened around his throat and his missing fingers. He felt exposed and naked. People were going to stare, were going to make fun of him, were going to know what really happened to him. 

He followed Master as they walked down the street— well, Master walked, he crawled. 

He felt ridiculous. Like a doll. A toy. Something to dress up and break. 

By the time they got to Waterfall, his injured hands and kneecaps were numb from being pulled along in the ice and snow, but he could still hear their faint clicks on stone as he followed the taller skeleton. 

They had passed multiple monsters. Some looked confused, some laughed, one or two had pitying faces, but what disturbed him the most was that some monsters looked longer than needed. Their eyes had bored into him with something like lust as they dragged over his bones, making Sans want to sink into a hole and die. His Master had walked casually. Perhaps he enjoyed the attention, knowing at the end of the day, it was him that got to fuck Sans. 

It was now a little warmer, with the sound of water trickling in nearby falls. He shivered as he splashed through puddles of chilly water, trying not to freeze up as he thought of The Incident with the bin of water. He wheezed, trying to keep up the pace but struggling. The familiar sting of tears rose behind his eyes. 

He saw a Snowdrake laugh and snicker to another monster nearby, but didn’t even bother to try to snarl at them. He didn’t even raise his eyes completely, trying not to look straight at them. He’d just look more pathetic. Sans tried to focus on his Master’s dark red boots, close behind him, as if he could just disappear behind him. 

Another quiet laugh came from the same pair of monsters in his peripheral vision. He sniffed, holding back tears of shame that clouded his vision. He couldn’t cry. Not here, not in public while he was dragged around on a lead. 

They had passed multiple houses, most with fences surrounding them. One had a poorly written sign that stated “DON’T ENTER!!!!!” tacked into the sandy earth in front of their house. An occasional spotting of echo flowers grew here and there, glowing softly. His worry grew stronger and stronger as they approached the area of Undyne’s house.

He was at the verge of panic as they approached her home. It was similar to the guard herself, with dark purple tiles as scales, sharp teeth on the front, and windows for the eyes. There were a few plants and some rocks dotting her front yard. A very rough welcome mat sat in front of the door, but almost no one felt welcome on Undyne’s turf. 

The collar on his neck made him feel like he was being strangled, his breath coming in shorter breaths and his body shaking in fear. This was going to be another torture session.

Master rapped on the door.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sans and papyrus were 23 when the story started, which means they are both about 28. in the flashback, they’re 8-10 years old. this chapter will be rewritten at some point. all flashbacks will be put in italics
> 
> school’s been kicking my ass and i’ve had a massive writer’s block.... and im bad at staying on schedule. sorry, guys. the schedule will be changed from every friday to every other friday :-(
> 
> edit: this chapter has been edited! i hope you enjoy :-)

_5 years later_

Silence.

That’s all he heard as he quietly sat in his cage, obediently looking at the floor. Master did not like eye contact and did not like him to look around, whether he was in the room or not. 

He looked at his wrists, currently bound by a ragged piece of rope. It had been secured like that for what could have been a few weeks. His right hand was missing all the way down to the wrist bone. Master had sliced it off when he was too scared to obey orders years ago. The bone had been lopped off right at the joint, and only his wrist bone remained, but his left hand was uninjured, except for the missing fingers. Both of his legs were cut off at the kneecap. He did not think about it.

When the door opened, he did not look up, but instead flinched. He didn’t know what time of day it was. He never did.

 

_  
“Should we?”_

_“...We need to. But only take what we need to,” Sans added, nervously smoothing his jacket. They had stolen before– only small things, a few scraps of food or an article of clothing that wouldn’t be missed– but it always raised a certain feeling of anxiety in him. He knew that if they were caught, they could be killed if the monster they encountered wasn’t particularly friendly._

_Sans fished a paperclip out of his pocket. It was bent and probably wouldn’t last for more than one or two more uses, but the two would use it to lock pick for as long as they could. He dug the paperclip into the lock, twisting it around until they heard the click of the lock releasing. Papyrus creaked open the door._

_Sans followed Papyrus into the shop, both of them stiffening every time they stepped on a creaky floorboard. They looked around in the darkness at the vague shapes of items sitting on shelves and got to work._

_Sans was startled when Papyrus tapped his shoulder and turned to see him holding a pocket knife._

_“You should have this,” he said very quietly._

_“What?! No!” Sans whisper-yelled._

_“We need protection,” Papyrus protested, standing firm. His gloved hand pushed the knife into Sans’ own._

_“Fine,” he muttered. The weapon felt heavier than expected, so he turned it over in his hands, running his finger over the silver blade carefully before finally decided to slip it in his pocket. He didn’t want to use it._

_Papyrus tapped his shoulder and pointed to a section towards the back of the store. There was clothes hanging up, as well as a stack of blankets. They looked thin, but usable.  
Sans walked over and grabbed one.They laid the blanket flat out on the ground, and Sans tip toed over to a shelf and grabbed a box of crackers. He kept putting items on the navy blue blanket. He stuffed his pockets until they bulged, as did Papyrus. They worked in silence, until Sans nearly jumped out of his skin. _

_Papyrus had dropped what sounded like a can, creating a loud thunk. They both froze, making eye contact and holding their breath._

_The sound of footsteps traveled down the stairs._

_A squirrel-like monster appeared at the base of the steps leading upstairs. His bushy tail stood straight out in surprise. The monster must have been the shopkeeper. Sans and Papyrus stood guiltily, holding their stolen goods. It was dead quiet for a split second, but then, the shopkeeper shouted, “Hey!”_

_Sans did not need to see Papyrus to know their plan. They both quickly scampered for the door, clutching the supplies they had stolen. The shopkeeper gained on them quickly, and before he knew it, Papyrus was being yanked back, stolen merchandise flying out of his arms. Sans spun around to face the shopkeeper as Papyrus struggled to get out of his grip._

_“You little shits!” The monster hissed, face obscured in the darkness of the store. “I’ll kill you both!”_

_Sans felt his hand reach into his jacket’s pocket and brandish the knife. He hesitated momentarily, before making up his mind as he watched the shopkeeper’s fist connect with Papyrus’ cheekbone. Suddenly, there was barely an ounce of hesitation. Sans leaped forwards and sunk his knife into the muscle of the shopkeeper’s arm that held onto his brother._

_A curse was heard and Papyrus was released, falling on the floorboards. Blood flecked the floor. Sans backed up nervously as the shopkeeper advanced on him, one hand holding his wound. He looked out of the corner of his eye and watched as the other skeleton quickly gathered up some of the food in the blanket, wrapping it up and throwing it over his shoulder like a sack. He snuck towards the door._

_“Sans!”_

_Sans defensively held his now bloodied knife, shaking as he dodged the adult monster’s hand and made a break for it out of the door Papyrus now held open. The cold air hit his face as he and Papyrus broke into a run, darting away with fear giving them speed._

_They ran for a few moments, looping around a bit to muddle up their footprints and make it harder to follow a trail._

_“You okay?” Sans wheezed as they slowed to a stop, looking over at his brother. Nothing was said, but Papyrus gave him a nod._

_They continued on, but Sans still found himself nervously jumping and looking around at every small noise. Eventually they arrived at their sad, makeshift camp. The pine trees were heavy with a new load of snow, their pine needles glittering. It was dark and rather unwelcoming, but Sans felt a wave of relief wash over him._

_Their home was a cluster of trees, growing so closely together that some of their trunks even fused together. The trees dropped pine needles all over, but sheltered them from the worst of the elements.Papyrus had spent an entire day digging in the cold ground at the base of the largest tree, making a cave-like hole under it’s large roots._

_He cleaned his knife off in the snow._

_They both plopped down on the icy ground underneath the pines, trying to ignore the chill seeping into their bones. Sans had made a firepit in the middle last month, and Papyrus liked to practice his fire magic in it. He watched as his brother concentrated, putting his hands near the sticks. A few tiny sparks landed on the wood, but it took a few more minutes before Papyrus had gotten the fire strong enough that it wouldn’t flicker out._

_Papyrus soon laid out the navy blue blanket, and Sans emptied his pockets._

_It was not much, but it was enough for them. They had a box of crackers, three cold cans of ravioli, two granola bars, a bag of Chisps, and an ugly sweater that Sans had somehow managed to shove in his pocket._

_They shared a can of ravioli, then hid the rest of their supplies in a hole in one of the trees._

_That night, Sans fell asleep with a thin blanket as Papyrus stood guard with a new layer of clothing on his shoulders._


End file.
